


In a barren and a desolate land

by CirrusGrey



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode 166 spoilers, Episode Related, M/M, Self-Worth Issues, he has so many names, oh goodness they changed the jon tag, rating is for swears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:46:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24074665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CirrusGrey/pseuds/CirrusGrey
Summary: SPOILERS FOR MAG 166!!!Martin swallowed. "It's just... it's true, isn't it?""What is?""You don't need me anymore."
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 40
Kudos: 479





	In a barren and a desolate land

**Author's Note:**

> _Be there and just as you stand_  
>  _Or be like the rose that you'd hold in your hand_  
>  _That will grow bold in a barren and a desolate land_  
>  _And lover be good to me._  
>  ~[Be,](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WjJUh8z-QL8) by Hozier

Martin stood, arms crossed over his chest, staring off into the rain until a flash of movement caught his eye. Jon had lowered the tape recorder.

That was his cue, well-rehearsed by now. He sighed, trudging back across the muddy field, trying his best to avoid stepping on any of the cracks he could see riddling the dirt. He didn't need to hear Jon's... travelogue... to know that that was where the screams were coming from.

"Alright?" he asked, as soon as he was within earshot.

Jon looked shaken, but he nodded. "Yes, I'm- I'm fine. Thank you for... thank you."

"Course." Martin shrugged, shifting his feet. "Ready to go?"

"Yes, we should-" Jon blinked, eyes focusing suddenly on Martin. "What  _ happened?" _ He grabbed Martin's hands, lifting them carefully. "You're covered in dirt, are you-"

"I'm fine," Martin cut him off. "I- I found another phone. Had to dig it up."

Jon froze. "...Did you answer it?"

"Yeah." Martin took a deep breath. The call had been- well. "Yeah, I- I did. Um." There was another rising moan from the ground around them, and they both winced. "Can we get out of here? Can we- can we talk about it once we're away from... this?"

Jon bit his lip, but shifted his grip so he was holding Martin's hand instead of clutching at it. "Of course, Martin." He tugged gently on his hand, started walking. "Let's go."

Jon walked fast. He always had. And normally,  _ normally  _ Martin would protest against it, launch a series of teasing complaints about Jon trying to kill him with cardio, but now...

Well,  _ now  _ the only reason Jon was walking at all was for Martin's sake, because he didn't have the stomach to deal with the Buried and the Web at the same time. And Martin didn't want to be more of a dead weight than he already was by asking him to slow down.

~~~~~

Jon listened patiently as he recounted everything Annabelle had said, and laughed when he was done.

"Seems like a pretty heavy-handed manipulation technique."

Martin shrugged. "I suppose so."

"Well, at least we know what she wants, now," Jon sighed. "That's got to count for something. Self-doubt and division... I suppose people are easier to control when they feel alone."

"Yeah." Martin scuffed one foot against the ground, not looking at him.

"Martin?"

"Mhm."

"Are you okay?" Jon's voice had gone soft, and Martin could have kicked himself for being so obvious. But, well... he  _ did  _ want to talk about this, didn't he? So he should talk.

Come what may.

"No, I'm not okay."

"What's wrong?" Jon stepped up close to him, and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Martin swallowed. "It's just... it's true, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"You don't need me anymore."

It hurt to say it, but Jon just looked baffled.

"Excuse me?"

"Well-" Martin waved a hand at him, taking in all that he had become.  _ "Look _ at you! You're a one-man walking... vengeance machine, or something! You're  _ safe  _ in this world, you can take down anything that gets in your way, I'll just- I mean, I'm a bit of a dead weight, aren't I?" He pressed his lips together. He could feel them shaking. "Do you really need me?"

Jon frowned at him. "Define 'need.'"

He rolled his eyes. "Don't play the semantics game, Jon, you  _ know  _ what I mean. There's- there's  _ nothing  _ I can do for you here, I can't make tea, I can't offer comfort, I can't-  _ fuck, _ I can't do  _ anything  _ except follow along in your wake like some kind of scared puppy!" He was shouting by the end of the sentence, but Jon was unfazed.

"And that's how you define 'need,' is it?" he said, head tilting to the side.

"Yes!"

"Fine. Fine." Jon nodded calmly, took a deep breath. "Well then, Martin, you're right. I  _ don't  _ need you."

He said it so bluntly.

Martin huffed out a breath, stepping backward as the words rocked over him. That- that  _ hurt. _ He  _ knew  _ it was coming, but it still hurt. His could feel his eyes start to well with tears, and he blinked rapidly, trying to force them back.

"Right."

Jon stepped forward, grabbing his hand. "I don't  _ need  _ you. I  _ want  _ you." His other hand lifted to cradle Martin's face, and he tilted his head, forcing Martin to meet his eyes. "I  _ love  _ you. Not for what you can do for me. Not because I need you. Because I  _ like  _ you."

Martin blinked again, tongue darting out to lick his lips. He opened his mouth, trying to speak - though he hardly knew what to say in response to that - but Jon shifted, covering it with his hand and shushing him.

"I like spending time with you, Martin," he continued. "Being around you makes me... happy. I miss you when you're not nearby."

His hand moved back again, thumb brushing Martin's cheek.

"So no, I don't need you. I don't need you to make me tea, or to comfort me, or to do anything. I just need you to be you, and to be here with me. I need you to... to reference movies I've never seen. To judge my opinions on poetry, or lack thereof. I need you to be  _ you." _

Martin was crying, now. He couldn't place the moment it had started.

"I- I don't-"

Jon shook his head, cutting him off. "I've never loved you for the things you do, Martin. I just love you."

For a while, the only noise that broke the silence was the sound of Martin's heaving sobs. Jon wrapped his arms around him, holding him close.

Finally, Martin was able to speak again. "I love you, too."

Jon kissed his forehead, right at the hairline. "I know."

He wiped his eyes on his sleeve, pulling back slightly. "Sorry. Sorry, I- I know I'm overreacting, I just-" he broke off, sniffling.

"You're not." Jon pulled him back into a hug, pressing his face into his hair. "What's wrong?"

"What isn't?" Martin laughed, brokenly. Then: "I've spent  _ so long _ trying to convince myself that being needed was the same thing as being loved."

He didn't elaborate. Jon didn't ask him to.

"Well, now you're loved, whether you're needed or not."

"I guess." His hands tightened in Jon's shirt. Jon sighed.

"And it seems I've underestimated the Web once again."

Martin laughed again, and it was stronger this time. "Yeah. Yeah, it- it's really good at what it does, isn't it?"

"Horrifyingly so." Jon stepped back, grabbing his hands. "But I won't let it hurt you. Thank you for telling me... all of this."

Martin stared into his eyes. Jon looked sure and steady, but...

"Jon?"

"Yes?"

"I don't know if I'll always be able to."

"What do you mean?"

Martin looked away.

"These thoughts, these...  _ doubts. _ They're not going to go away. And- and I'm not sure I'll always be able to... tell you. When I'm having them. I've spent... god, most of my life. I've been alone." Jon's hands tightened around his, and Martin gripped back desperately, even though he still couldn't meet his eyes. "Most of the people I've loved have left me. Most of them..." He sighed. Jon made a small, encouraging noise, and it was enough to help him keep going. "I've never been comfortable telling other people when I'm having a hard time. Any time I do, it just seems to push them away faster. And I know- I  _ know  _ that's not a healthy mindset, and I  _ know  _ you're not going to leave, but that doesn't fix a lifetime's worth of ingrained behavior patterns." He swallowed. "That doesn't fix the fact that part of me, even as I'm saying this, is certain you're going to walk away, to decide I'm too much trouble and- and I can't be brave every time, Jon." He shook his head, finally meeting his eyes. "I can't always push myself when I'm down, I can't.... Sometimes, I'm just not going to be able to tell you," he finished with a sigh, then laughed again. "God, I need therapy."

Jon's lips twitched in a small, humorless smile. "You and me both." Then his expression turned serious. "What do you need from me, Martin?"

"I-" Martin paused. "I don't... know. Christ." He shook his head, biting his lip. "I don't  _ know  _ what I need. I'm not used to...  _ needing." _

"You're used to being needed."

"Yeah."

"Well, nothing like learning under pressure." Jon said it with a gentle smile, and Martin exhaled shakily.

"Thanks."

"Of course. I'm here for you."

Martin leaned into him again, and they stayed there for a moment, silent and still. He was going back in his mind, piecing together everything that had happened, trying to find the places that had made him feel unsure.

"Jon?"

"Hm?"

"I think I need you to talk to me."

"What do you mean?" He could hear Jon's frown, even though he couldn't see it.

"About you." He turned his head into the collar of Jon's shirt. His voice was slightly muffled by the fabric. "Don't shut me out. Tell me if you're- if you're scared, or ashamed, or- or just feeling down. Please."

Jon didn't speak for a moment, and Martin closed his eyes, focusing on the soft rush of his breathing.

"I can't always be brave either, Martin."

It was a quiet admission, laden with regret. Martin sighed. "I know."

"But..." Jon took a shallow breath. "I'll try. If you will."

"Okay." Martin nodded minutely. He wasn't sure if Jon even felt it. "Just promise me you won't- won't be annoyed by it?"

"Martin, you know I won't be."

"I need to hear it." His voice came out small, and some deep part of him burned with shame for it, even though he knew Jon wouldn't mind.

"Okay." Jon turned his head, pressing a kiss into his hair. "Okay." He took a deep breath. "Martin Blackwood, I swear to you with every bone I have left in my body that I will not be annoyed when you tell me that you're hurting. I will not think you're being difficult, I will not grow tired of it or think you're too much work. I will do my utmost to lift you up when you are down; but, if I am unable to do so, I will stay by your side, even when you are at your most miserable, and feel nothing but love. Martin, I will never leave you-" and he pulled back, just enough so that he could meet Martin's eyes. Martin could feel every warm puff of air when he spoke. "Even if I lose myself, and sink to the deepest depths of inhumanity, I will still love you. I will protect you, and care for you, even if you find yourself in a place where you are unable to give anything in return. This is not a transactional relationship: you do not need to earn my love and devotion. You have it, and will continue to have it, come what may."

Martin closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against Jon's. "Thank you."

"Anytime." Jon's lips brushed against his, and he smiled faintly.

"Can I say something?"

"Of course."

"Because I think you need to hear it." Martin didn't open his eyes, didn't stop smiling. "I will never think you are inhuman." He heard Jon's sharp intake of breath; didn't pause. "I will never think you are a monster. I will never be scared of you, no matter what you tell me about the ways you are changing, or how you think and feel. If I seem afraid, it is because I am scared  _ for  _ you: scared of how much you blame yourself, scared of the things you might do to try to punish yourself. I will never think you deserve punishment, Jon." He pressed their foreheads together more forcefully, lifting a hand to the back of Jon's head to keep him close. "Because you  _ don't. _ I know you don't believe me, but believe in me. I have faith in you. And I'm not going to lose it."

Jon took a rattling breath, but when he spoke, his voice was steady.

"That felt an awful lot like marriage vows."

"Yeah, well." Martin kissed him. "It's something to think about, once we've fixed all this."

"Yes." Jon stepped back a pace, keeping one arm around Martin's waist and lacing the fingers of his free hand through Martin's. "Something to look forward to."

Martin squeezed his hand. That was a promise he could barely fit in his head: them,  _ together, _ after all this was through. It felt... unrealistic. Fairy-tale, in a world of harsh reality. But with Jon by his side, steady and sure... he could almost believe in it. Someday.

"Well, we'll never get there if we don't get started."

Jon nodded. "You ready to start moving again?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "Back to strategizing, I suppose."

Jon hmmed, shifting his grip so they could hold hands while they walked. "Strategizing and trying to work out what the Web wants. Two things I've proven to be quite a dismal failure at."

"Well, nothing like learning under pressure," Martin teased. Jon laughed.

"No, I suppose not." He fell silent for a moment. "Martin?"

"Yeah?"

"We- I mean. We're  _ good, _ right? This was- this was good?"

"Yeah." Martin nodded, brushing their shoulders together. "Yeah, I think it was. That- that needed to be said."

"Good." Jon squeezed his hand. "Thank you for starting that conversation."

Martin shrugged. "Thank  _ you  _ for listening."

Jon's voice was warm and fond. "Anytime."


End file.
